


Twisted Evidence

by PJ1228



Series: Evidence and Relations [9]
Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Case Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-30
Updated: 2004-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJ1228/pseuds/PJ1228
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nat has to deal with an unwanted houseguest while Nick investigates a homicide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Evidence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belongs to me but to Sony/Tristar and TPTB. I'm just borrowing them temporarily. No infringement intended. No profit is being made.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Doris for beta reading.
> 
> This is the ninth part of my "Evidence"-Series that begins with [A Piece of Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246186) and continues with [Evidence of Love](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246218), [Lack of Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246300), [Plain Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246801), [Circumstantial Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/247359), [Evidence of Trust](http://archiveofourown.org/works/247806), [Unexpected Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/250108) and [Evidence of Fear](http://archiveofourown.org/works/250139). It contains several references to the previous stories, so you should read those first in order to be up to date with the plot. "Twisted Evidence" begins exactly where "Evidence of Fear" left off.

**Twisted Evidence**  
by PJ  
November 2004

 

Nick woke with a start. He wasn't sure what had woken him, but he found himself in a rather uncomfortable position. He was lying in the middle of Lacroix's bed, his hands tied with silk scarves to the headboard. He must have really been exhausted when his master had managed to bind him without him even noticing anything. He turned his head to the door and saw his master enter, dressed in a robe.

"Ah, you are awake," Lacroix stated with a smile. "Good."

"Lucien, what's your intention?" Nick inquired wearily.

Lacroix sat down on the edge of the bed. "I intend to drive you crazy with need."

Nick swallowed, a sense of anticipation creeping through his body.

Lacroix reached out and very tenderly brushed his fingertips across Nick's cheek, then along his chin and neck. "I'm going to wake a desire in you that compares to nothing else," he whispered into his ear.

"And then?" Nick asked.

Lacroix curved his lips. "Then we shall see…" He left the statement hanging in the air. Leaning down, he captured Nick's mouth in a demanding kiss, his tongue caressing Nick's fangs until they dropped. Then he raised his head to observe his handiwork. His son grinned at him through extended fangs, expecting the continuation of their kiss any moment. Lacroix leaned down again, but as Nick raised his head to meet him, he evaded his lips, causing his child to growl in frustration.

Instead he licked his tongue along the length of Nick's neck, lingering a moment on the pulse point where he left a well placed kiss. Nick's breathing had increased during the actions. Lacroix continued his downward path, sucking and licking until Nick was lying squirming beneath him. His eyes were on the point of turning crimson and his breath was coming in rags.

"So hungry, aren't you?" Lacroix purred.

Nick nodded in confirmation.

"And so am I," Lacroix answered and retrieved a knife from the nightstand.

As the knife came into view, Nick expected Lacroix to cut his bonds. Soon he would be free to feed on his master's blood which he so desperately needed for his release.

But instead of cutting his bonds, Lacroix used the knife to make a cut at his shoulder. Nick winced at the pain that soon dissolved into pleasure as Lacroix's lips closed over the wound and sensuously sucked at the blood that surfaced. The action was repeated on several parts of his chest.

Before long, Nick found himself looking forward to the pain, knowing that immense pleasure would follow immediately. He was thrashing in ecstasy on the sheets and yet he was acutely aware that he was craving his master's blood more desperately with each passing second. "Lucien," he rasped. "I need your blood!"

"And you shall have it," his master soothed. "But not yet."

Nick growled fiercely at the denial.

"Can you feel the desire burning in you?" He used the knife to cut his fingertip. The sight and scent of his master's blood brought Nick to the edge of frenzy. "As it consumes you until you can focus on nothing else?" Lacroix continued.

"Please," Nick begged.

"Do you feel it?" Lacroix asked more urgent.

"Yes!" Nick cried with ardour.

Lacroix leaned over him, just out of reach. "This is what I have endured over a century. Certainly you can endure it another few minutes."

Nick gasped at these words, suddenly realizing that this was not love-making. This was a lesson.

"In all this time I've been burning for you, Nicholas. Your denial has only increased my desire for you. Only you can satisfy me. Your jealousy is unnecessary, Nicholas. Do you understand?"

Nick stared at his master. He hadn't been aware what he had done to him during the years he had kept running from him. And yet, Lacroix had never given up nor taken someone else. Another feeling mixed with his desperate craving, he felt cherished and loved above all else. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Seeing that his son had understood his point, Lacroix reached for the bonds and cut them in a swift motion.  
"Bois, mon fils, and revel in the desire that is burning for you alone."

Nick needed no further invitation. He pulled Lacroix down and sank his fangs into the vein at his neck. Fiercely he sucked in his master's essence and cried out in bliss as he felt Lacroix's bite into his shoulder.

* * *

When Nick woke up, he still had his arms around Lacroix. The elder regarded him expectantly, trying to get a hint at his mood. "Are you angry, Nicholas?"

Nick shook his head. "No, I just wished ---"

"Yes?"

"I just wished all your lessons had brought me that much pleasure."

"They probably would have if you had paid better attention."

Nick scowled. "Lucien, I had no idea," he said, changing the topic.

"I know," Lacroix answered. "And I hope you realize now that your jealousy of Dr. Lambert or anyone else is unnecessary."

Nick nodded mutely. "Good. Why don't we give it a test and invite Dr. Lambert for an evening out? As a thank you for her recent favour in providing transportation during the day?" Lacroix asked.

Nick looked at him, surprised. "What kind of entertainment did you have in mind?"

"The opera perhaps. There's plenty of room in the box I have reserved."

"Okay, I'll ask her," Nick agreed.

Lacroix reached for Nick's wrists and untied the end of the scarves. Angry dark bruises came into view.

"It was well worth it," Nick stated as he saw his master frown at the sight. "Only problem is, I have to work tonight."

"Then we have to see that we get you presentable again," Lacroix said and used his thumb nail to open the vein at his neck.

Nick's lips closed over the wound instantly.

* * *

Natalie entered the bullpen and approached the desk where Schanke sat filing reports. "Hey Schank, where's your partner?" she asked.

"Not in yet," Schanke answered slightly annoyed.

"But I saw his car outside," Nat pointed out.

"Yeah, he told me to drop him off at Lacroix's place and take the Caddy with me. Neither saw nor heard anything from him since."

"Is everything all right, Schanke?" Nat asked, concerned at his tone.

"Don't ask me. I'm trying to appear busy investigating a case of which I know has been closed, except that this will never be known officially. I saw my partner cold-bloodedly kill another man who then burned to dust at sunrise. But apart from this, sure, everything's alright."

Nat had listened to his rants with growing alarm.

"The least he could do is helping me with the paperwork. How should I know what to put into the report. But obviously he thinks he doesn't need to bother with the boring stuff."

"Schanke, you know that's not true," Nat interjected.

"So, why isn't he here then?"

"I am here, Schanke," a voice spoke from behind them, causing them both to jump.

"You're late," Schanke stated after he had recovered.

"I'm sorry. I was delayed by something."

Judging from his rosy cheeks, Natalie had her own suspicions what this 'something' had been. And she doubted that Lacroix would approve of being referred to as 'something'. "Nick, can I talk to you for a minute?" Natalie asked.

"Sure, if Schanke can spare me a little longer," Nick replied.

"Take all the time you need. I've just decided to let you handle the paperwork. I'm going to grab some coffee."

Nat used the opportunity to drag Nick into a conference room. "Nick, what happened yesterday? Schanke is going nuts."

"Sebastian, the vampire who's responsible for the killings used Schanke as bait. I was able to rescue him in time, but he saw me killing the guy."

"Then you saved Schanke and killed the vampire in defence? Why is he so upset then?"

Nick cast his eyes to the floor. "I was ---- a little enraged. It's possible that Schanke was a little shocked by the sight of me."

Nat gave him a sceptical look, not sure if she wanted to hear any more details. "Anyway, you should talk to him about it. He doesn't know how to handle this case. And you should come to a mutual agreement how to close this."

"Yeah, I know," Nick said with a sigh, glad that she didn't prod him to reveal more details about his motivation in killing Sebastian. "Nat," he called her back when she was about to leave the room. "Lacroix wants to express his gratitude for your help after I had been arrested. Would you join us at the opera tomorrow night?"

Nat stared at him. This was the last thing she had expected. "The opera? With the both of you?"

Nick nodded.

"I don't know," she said more to herself. As much as she would like to go with them, she didn't want to be the fifth wheel. But at the same time her curiosity got the better of her. "Okay, why not. I'll be glad to come," she announced.

"Good. I'll pick you up at 7 then."

They exited the conference room to find Schanke sitting at his desk, nursing his coffee. The mountains of paper that had previously covered his blotter were now piled on Nick's desk.

* * *

When Natalie returned home in the morning, she dashed directly towards her closet, taking inventory of her wardrobe. She hoped to find something appropriate for a night at the opera. "Lambert, you're going out far too rarely. You definitely need new clothes."

With a shrug she reached past her work suits to the very end of the closet and pulled out a black evening dress. She had worn it only once, at Azure, hoping it would be one of the most romantic evenings in her life. But then it had turned out to be a nightmare without end.

Would they notice that she was wearing the same dress? Hardly, she thought. They'd probably only have eyes for each other. Having made up her mind, she changed into her nightgown and went to bed.

* * *

Natalie regarded herself in front of the mirror, when the doorbell alerted her that it was time to get ready. She pulled on her coat and opened the door. "Hi, Nick," she greeted him. "I'm ready to go."

"Good. Lacroix will meet us at the entrance," Nick explained and led her towards the Caddy.

* * *

"Doctor Lambert, I'm glad that you accepted my invitation," Lacroix purred as they met him in front of the theatre. They entered the lobby. "Ah, radiant as always," he remarked as he helped her out of her coat, his fingers slightly touching her bare shoulders.

Natalie shivered involuntarily at the cold touch.

Nick noticed the rise in her heartbeat and shot his master a warning glance. Then he slid his arm into Nat's and led her upstairs towards the box Lacroix had reserved.

Once the curtain had risen, Natalie soon forgot the men's presence. She was totally caught up in the performance of "Madame Butterfly".

The second half turned out to be as magnificent as the beginning. Although Natalie didn't understand the words as they were sung in Italian, she was quite able to follow the plot. It was a moving story and she could no longer suppress her tears. Gratefully she accepted the handkerchief that was offered and dried her eyes, not caring who had been so attentive.

* * *

"Wonderful," Nick stated after the applause had died down.

They left their seats and filed downstairs with the other patrons.

Natalie excused herself for a moment and disappeared into the Ladies' room. She wanted to check herself in the mirror as she had the feeling her entire makeup had been washed away by her tears. She used the handkerchief she had received to wet her eyes with some cool water. It was then that she noticed the monogram on the tissue. "Damn," she muttered as she stared at the letter "L". Not only had he caught her crying her eyes out, he also had to let her know that he did by offering her his handkerchief. Nat blushed in embarrassment.

That moment a young woman entered the bathroom, obviously struggling to regain composure.

"Sad ending, hm?" Nat remarked and handed the offending handkerchief to the woman before gracefully stepping out of the room.

"I'm taking Nat home," Nick announced as they exited the theatre.

"Very well. I will go ahead. Doctor, I hope you enjoyed the evening."

"Yes, thank you for inviting me," Nat replied.

Nick leaned for a moment close to Lacroix. "Chez moi ou chez toi?" he whispered.

"Chez toi," the elder replied in the same manner.

Smiling, Nick took Natalie's arm and departed with her in the direction of the parking lot.

Nat had watched the interaction curiously. She had been astonished by the behaviour her two companions had shown throughout the evening so far. They had acted just normal. No significant glances, no secret touches as far as she had been able to observe. Being in public, they had been acting just like friends. Nothing in their behaviour had hinted at the more intimate aspect of their relationship.

* * *

By the time Nick had returned to the loft, Lacroix had changed into his robe. The loft was lit by several candles and in front of the fireplace was a comfortable pile of blankets and pillows. Nick took in the setting as he stepped out of the lift. Lacroix was busy in the kitchen, filling two goblets from a bottle.

Nick shed his tuxedo jacket and approached Lacroix who handed him one glass. Nick drained it in one swallow and handed it back to him. After placing it on the counter, Lacroix took his son by the hand and led him towards the fireplace. There he leaned close and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. Nick responded eagerly.

After removing the tie, Lacroix unbuttoned Nick's vest and slid it from his shoulders. Then he turned his attention to the shirt, which soon joined the other items on the floor. Again he leaned in to capture his son's lips in a passionate kiss. Nick reached for the belt of Lacroix's robe, undoing the knot. The robe slipped from Lacroix's shoulders, revealing his bare body.

"How do you want me, Nicholas?" he asked in his smooth voice.

Nick swallowed. The mere question caused his eyes to turn golden.

"Rough or tender?" Lacroix continued.

"Tender," Nick replied after a moment of contemplating the possibilities. He didn't mind getting roughed up on occasion but tonight he was more in the mood for tender actions. "Save rough for the next time," he added.

"As you wish," Lacroix whispered and motioned him onto the pile of blankets.

Nick lay down and found his mouth again claimed by Lacroix. Then the elder moved towards his neck, licking and nibbling for a while at the skin that covered the vein. Nick bared his neck, wishing he would just bite into it. But instead the elder moved to Nick's shoulder, applying similar attention there. Nick's hands roamed across Lacroix's back and caressed the back of his neck.

Next Lacroix turned his attention to Nick's nipples, caressing the left one with his tongue until it hardened under the skilful touch. Simultaneously he used his fingers to stroke the other one until it responded equally.  
Then he continued to kiss his way downwards, flicking his tongue in and out of Nick's belly button. Upon finding his further way obstructed by the trousers, he paused a moment to look up into Nicholas' face who returned the glance expectantly.

Smiling, he returned his attention to the belt and quickly relieved his son of his remaining clothes. After gazing a moment at the object of his desire, causing his son to cry out in impatience, he tenderly licked his tongue along the length of it. Nick drew in a sharp breath that was released in desperate whimpers as Lacroix covered his length with feather light kisses. Nick clawed his hands into the blanket. Lacroix's ministrations felt wonderful but they didn't help to ease the tension that had been steadily building in his groin.

He groaned in frustration as Lacroix's mouth left his current place and wandered up his belly again. But before he could mouth a complaint, he perceived a different sensation, realizing that his master was poised at his entrance. "Yes, take me, Lucien!" he demanded.

Lacroix smiled at his child's impatience. "You opted for tender, remember?" he reminded him in a teasing tone.

"I don't care," Nick cried out. Then he sighed in bliss as Lacroix very slowly eased his way inside. After showering Nick's chest with soft kisses, Lacroix began to move, withdrawing slowly and sliding back in, each time a little more forceful and each time a little deeper.

Nick's groans intensified with each stroke. Every time he thought this would be the final, there was always the next one, deeper and more intense. His senses reeled in blissful overload and his muscles ached from sheer exertion. Something urged him to take what he needed before he would pass out completely. Releasing a deep roar, he sank his fangs into Lacroix's neck. Instantly he felt his own shoulder being pierced before his climax shuddered through him. He clung to his master, taking as much blood as he could get, not wanting the moment to end too soon.

His breathing was still somewhat ragged as the shuddering subsided. Their lips met in a passionate kiss.  
"Take me again," Nick requested.

"Ah, my insatiable child," Lacroix replied, amused.

"Please," Nick begged.

"Turn around," Lacroix whispered.

Nick complied and soon he found himself invaded by his master again. This time Lacroix simultaneously used a free hand to caress Nick's front, bringing them skilfully to the edge again. He offered him his other hand while he bit deeply into his shoulder.

Nick tore into the offered wrist, which triggered his climax. But it wasn't enough. After Lacroix had released him, he turned and bit into his neck once more. Lacroix returned the bite with ardour, revelling in the desire he sensed in his son for his blood. Again and again they tore into each other's throat leaving a bloody trail of torn flesh in their wake. Finally exhaustion prevailed and they collapsed into each other's arms.

* * *

Natalie hesitated before stepping out of the lift. She hated it when she had to disturb Nick during the day, but unfortunately the situation left no other options.

She had been called to a crime scene in the early afternoon and much to her shock discovered that it had been the theatre where they had spent the previous evening. A tight knot formed in her stomach as she was led to a spot in the orchestra, exactly beneath the same box where she had so enjoyed herself only 18 hours before. Slumped across several seats was the body of a woman. On the floor lay the scattered contents of her purse.

A cold dread came over her as she recognized the young woman she had met in the bathroom. Reaching out with shivering hands she turned the head to the side in order to get a look at the neck. To her relief she noticed that the skin was unscathed, but the neck was clearly broken. "Looks like she fell from the balcony and broke her neck on impact," she stated in a shaky voice. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait until I have her in the lab for more details."

"Dr. Lambert, are you alright?" Captain Cohen asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Nat replied, trying to get a grip on herself. "I was here yesterday and I met this woman shortly in the washroom after the performance. She seemed to be very moved by the play."

"Then you're probably one of the last people who saw her alive," Cohen said. "Could you come to the precinct for a statement after you're done with the autopsy?"

"Sure," Nat agreed.

Captain Cohen turned towards an officer and pointed towards the box above. "I want to know who had reservations for these boxes last night."

Natalie froze. Then she quickly excused herself, stating she would go ahead to prepare the lab. Once in her car, she drove to the loft as fast as possible.

* * *

As she stepped out of the elevator she was greeted by darkness and eerie silence. The only source of light came from the glowing embers of the fireplace. Carefully, she made her way towards it. Her foot collided with something smooth on the ground, causing her to stagger against the couch. Regaining her balance, she groped her way to the end table, intent on finding the lightswitch for the lamp.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice from somewhere on the floor spoke distinctly, causing her to freeze in her movements.

"Lacroix?" she asked after she had recovered. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"Nothing of your concern," he replied matter-of-factly.

Nat sighed in exasperation. "Can I turn the light on now?" she asked slightly annoyed.

"No." The tone of voice tolerated no resistance.

"But I can't see anything," she complained.

"Exciting, isn't it?" the voice whispered suddenly close to her ear. "How the other senses go into overdrive when one is subdued. Especially the mind that conjures up all kind of images from the unknown and a tension is building inside you, caused by a certain anticipation of what I might do next."

Natalie's breathing had indeed quickened and she felt her mouth go dry.

"Ah, yes, I'm sure you would enjoy such a game, Natalie," Lacroix whispered knowingly. "Perhaps another time. Right now I want you to remain just where you are. I will be with you in a few minutes."

Natalie took a deep breath, realizing that she had clawed her fingers into the couch. She perceived a rustling on the floor, a muffled moan, followed by a "ssh", then a whooshing sound and the closing of a door upstairs.

* * *

Lacroix gently placed Nick onto the bed. Then he reached for his clothes and made a short dash into the bathroom.

* * *

Natalie gasped as the lamp beside her was suddenly switched on and she found herself face to face with Lacroix, dressed impeccably as usual. She blanched, however, as her gaze fell on a pillow on the floor that was covered with blood. Before she could utter a word of alarm, Lacroix kicked it unceremoniously under the couch. Then he sauntered over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass. The rapid draining of the liquid stood in odd contrast to the ease his manners conveyed.

"And now I'd like to know what could possibly be so important that it justifies a disturbance at this hour?" he demanded.

Natalie swallowed. "There's been a murder at the theatre. The Captain wants Nick there as soon as possible."

"I wouldn't count on Nicholas waking up any time soon," Lacroix stated.

"What have you done to him?" Natalie asked, more out of concern than curiosity.

"You do not really expect me to answer that in detail, do you?" Lacroix replied incredulously, causing Nat to blush.

"Ah, no," she stammered. "But why do you say he won't wake up any time soon? Is he ill?"

"No, Doctor, not ill," Lacroix replied amused. "Only exhausted."

"Uhu," Nat mumbled, not wanting to prod him for further details. Then she found Lacroix's attention focused on the bedroom door.

"You might yet be lucky, Doctor. He's waking up. I will see what I can do." Taking the bottle with him, he flew onto the gallery and vanished into the bedroom.

* * *

Nick stirred in his sleep. "Nicholas," Lacroix called. "Nicholas, wake up."

"Lucien, what's wrong?" Nick asked drowsily.

"I'm afraid your second night off has been cancelled," Lacroix informed him.

"What?"

"Natalie is downstairs, saying something about a new case."

"But I can't," Nick protested. "Tell her to come back tomorrow."

"I tried but obviously your Captain is insisting on your appearance."

"But," Nick started again.

"I know," Lacroix said and opened his collar. "Take what you need."

Sinking his fangs into the offered neck, Nick drank in hasty swallows. After he had taken quite an amount, he let go of Lacroix, breathing heavily.

Lacroix felt slightly dizzy and reached for the bottle he had placed on the nightstand. "You know, I'm glad you opted for tender. Otherwise I'm not sure we could have made you fit for company in so short a time," he stated.

Nick's eyes turned gold by the mere implication of his words. Quickly he reached for Lacroix's neck again to take another few swallows.

"Better?" Lacroix asked.

Nick nodded.

"Good. Go, take a shower and get dressed before you join us downstairs."

Nick complied and stumbled into the bathroom.

Lacroix took a deep breath, then carefully made his way back downstairs.

Natalie wondered briefly why he took the stairs instead of flying as usual. Her brows furrowed as she watched him going into the kitchen again. He took a new bottle out of the fridge and filled a glass that he emptied quickly. Then he refilled it and drained it, too. After he had refilled it a third time he turned back to her. "Nicholas will be here shortly," he informed her.

"Great," Nat said. "How did you -" Her eyes fell on two pairs of fresh bite marks. That explained his sudden need for blood, she thought, suppressing a shudder.

* * *

When Nick appeared downstairs, Nat could only stare at him. She hadn't been sure what to expect after Lacroix's rather alarming hints and the glimpse of the bloodied pillow she had caught before Lacroix had kicked it under the couch. He looked absolutely ravishing. There was a gleam in his eyes and his movements expressed a liveliness she had rarely noticed before.

Lacroix observed with amusement the effect the sight of his son had on the good doctor. He filled a second glass for Nicholas and passed it to him, immensely pleased when he remained leaning against him.

Natalie suppressed any feelings of jealousy and rattled down the elementary facts from the murder scene.

"Thanks for the warning, Nat," Nick said. "I'll come in shortly."

Feeling dismissed, Natalie stepped into the lift, glad to escape the awkward atmosphere.

* * *

Schanke replaced the receiver on the cradle and looked up into the expectant face of Captain Cohen. "Forensics found an ID among the items that were scattered on the floor," he stated. "Her name is Roberta Mason, student at the University of Toronto. Apart from that they found a black men's handkerchief embroidered with a silver threaded L clenched in her fist."

"Interesting," Cohen stated. "Any sign from your partner yet?"

"I'm sure he'll be here any minute. In the meantime I'll start with the reservations list of last night's performance." He breathed a sigh of relief when Cohen returned to her room. Schanke scanned the names on the list he had received from the theatre. "Oh no, not again," he groaned as his eyes focused on a very familiar name.

Then he froze as a shadow fell over his desk. Looking up he saw his partner leaning over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of what had caught Schanke's attention. "Let me guess, you were there as well," Schanke said.

"Uhu," Nick nodded.

"But your name isn't on this list."

"Lacroix had reserved the entire box under his name."

"That means this list isn't complete at all," Schanke sighed.

"Probably not."

Captain Cohen approached their desk. "Schanke, have you compared the seating chart with the names on the list? I'd like to interview those first who sat in the boxes above."

"That would be us," Nick stated.

Cohen looked at him, surprised. "Natalie didn't mention that you were having box seats."

"We ---- were invited," Nick explained.

"The box was reserved under the name of Lucien Lacroix," Schanke provided.

"I see," Cohen remarked, immediately connecting the name with the letter on the handkerchief. "Then I want him here as well. I already told Natalie to come over when she's finished with the autopsy." She turned and rushed back into her office.

With a sigh Nick picked up the phone and dialled a number. "Your presence is requested," he said after the connection was made. "No, officially," he added in a hushed tone, clearly embarrassed at the implications that were whispered into his ear.

* * *

Two hours later Nick, Schanke, Natalie, Lacroix and Captain Cohen were gathered around a table in the conference room.

"Mr. Lacroix, I suppose you didn't attend the performance alone?" Captain Cohen asked.

"No, I had invited Doctor Lambert and Detective Knight to join me, as you will already know," Lacroix replied in a bored tone.

"I also know that the young woman must have fallen from your box. I advise you to take this seriously," Cohen admonished him. She picked up an evidence bag. "Is this your handkerchief? We found it in the dead girl's fist. An odd coincidence, don't you think?"

"How unfortunate. I suppose that makes me your prime suspect, Captain?" Lacroix challenged.

"According to the preliminary report, the time of death has been narrowed down to three hours after the performance ended. Can you provide an alibi for the time?"

"In fact, I can," Lacroix said, resting his gaze on Nicholas, who was getting more and more uncomfortable.  
"I was spending the day in most pleasant company," Lacroix stated.

"Can you confirm that, Doctor?" Captain Cohen said, turning to Natalie.

Nat blushed, slightly confused why she was asked. "Uh, I guess so, yes, Captain," she stammered while Nick shot her an incredulous look.

"Very well, that clears you for now, but I would advise you not to leave the city," Cohen said and exited the room, followed by Schanke.

"What?" Nat said as she noticed Nick staring at her.

"Nat, you just admitted to having spent the day with Lacroix," Nick said accusingly.

"I did not!" Natalie exclaimed, extremely upset. "I confirmed that you spent the day together."

"No, you didn't. Lacroix's answer caused the Captain to think it was you whom he had spent the day with."

"Oh my god!" Nat cried out in shock, causing Lacroix to snicker in amusement.

"It seems I have to thank you for providing such a delightful alibi for me." Then he turned serious again as he overheard Captain Cohen talking outside.

"I have a feeling that there's more to it," she said. "I want a surveillance team on him and Dr. Lambert."

Nick, who had also heard it, looked at Lacroix in alarm.

"What is it?" Nat asked, aware that she was missing something.

"It seems we're required to put on a little show for the benefit of your Captain," Lacroix said, slightly amused.

"What do you mean, what kind of show?" Nat asked.

"To convince her that my only ambition lies in the pleasant task of courting you, my dear."

"But -----" Nat began.

"Oh, you don't want to be accused of giving false statement, do you?"

Natalie's shoulders slumped down in defeat. Then she stood to leave the room.

"Nicholas?" Lacroix asked softly.

"Just don't make it look too real," Nick remarked sullenly.

"You are aware that we wouldn't be in this situation at all, had you simply stated that it was you whom I spent the day with."

"I know," Nick admitted, anguish creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry."

"Then do not complain about the consequences," Lacroix demanded and rose to leave the room as well. In the bullpen he went straight to Natalie, picked up her hand and raised it to his lips. "I understand that you're finished here for tonight. Permit me to accompany you home," he said, causing Natalie to blush.

She chose not to comment, but grabbed her coat and headed out of the bullpen, very well aware that he was following her.

"Your keys," he requested when they had reached Natalie's car.

"Why?"

"It will appear more gallant when I drive."

Nat regarded him doubtfully. "You know how to drive?"

"In fact, I do. Although I prefer alternate transportation and rarely require the use of an automobile. I took the opportunity to acquire the appropriate skills on a Ford Model T if you must know."

"But you are aware that this is a slightly different model and doesn't need to be started by a crank," Nat pointed out.

He shot her a seething glare that caused her to hand over the keys immediately.

"But you do have a license, do you?" she ventured after he had opened the passenger door for her.

"I wasn't aware I needed one," he whispered. "I tend to buy my cars including a chauffeur."

Natalie groaned and clawed her hands onto the seat. But much to her surprise Lacroix steered her vehicle effortlessly through the traffic, very aware of the surveillance car that followed in the distance.

When they had reached her apartment building, Lacroix rounded the car and opened the door for her. She grew slightly alarmed as he accompanied her to the door. "What do you want?" she asked.

"To accompany you upstairs, of course. Or do you prefer that your Captain finds out that you lied to her?"

Natalie stared at him. Until now she had been playing along. But the thought of taking Lacroix with her into her apartment was more than she was prepared to do. Swallowing she opened the door. "Did any of you consider the damage this will do to my reputation?" she asked in annoyance.

"Yes, the thought has crossed my mind. Unfortunately Nicholas seems to be more concerned about his own reputation than yours, I'm afraid."

Once in her apartment she watched confusedly as he opened the balcony door. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I take my leave," he said in a neutral tone.

"Oh," she breathed, immensely relieved.

He turned back towards her, raising her chin with his fingertips. "I hope you're not too disappointed. But I hadn't planned on spending the day here as I suppose that you have nothing else to offer than the bounty that blushes your skin. But I promise to return after sunset." He stepped onto the balcony and was gone before the implication of his statement hit her.

With shaking hands she closed the door and prepared herself for bed.

* * *

When Lacroix returned to his mansion he found his son pacing impatiently in the parlour. "Is something wrong, Nicholas?"

"How did your handkerchief end up in the girl's fist?" Nick began in an accusing tone.

"That is beyond my knowledge. Perhaps she received it from Dr. Lambert when she met her in the washroom."

"And why would Nat have your handkerchief?" he asked upset.

"Because I offered it to her in a moment of need."

"What moment of need?"

"The opera, Nicholas. Didn't you notice how moved our guest was by the performance? One could say she literally cried her eyes out."

Nick looked a little lost. "No, I didn't notice," he confessed. "I guess, I must have been entirely focused on the music."

"Obviously," Lacroix remarked in an amused voice which prompted Nick to smile at him sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

Lacroix gazed at him solemnly. "Have you already forgotten our last lesson, Nicholas?"

Nick looked uncomfortably to the floor. "No, but I can't help how I feel," he stated. Then he raised his head and looked at his master through golden eyes. "Could you explain that again?" he asked in a voice, rough with passion.

* * *

"Nick? May I ask you something?" Schanke asked while they were driving to the university on their next shift.

"Sure. What is it?" Nick asked in return, although he had a slight idea what Schanke wanted to know.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you putting on this show with Nat and Lacroix? Somehow I don't believe that he was with her."

"Well, he wasn't." When Schanke didn't comment, Nick added, "He was with me."

"I thought so. But why don't you tell that to the Captain?"

"I already draw enough attention. I can't add another complication to my already odd eccentricities."

"But what about Nat? Have you considered what this is going to do to her?"

Nick's mood darkened slightly. "Thanks to you, Schanke, there are already rumours about Nat and Lacroix running the grapevine."

"Hey, it was Grace who started it. So, don't blame me," Schanke defended himself.

Nick sighed and turned the Caddy towards the morgue. "Let's check on Nat," he mumbled.

* * *

Nick and Schanke entered the morgue. Natalie's desk was decorated with a huge vase, containing a bouquet of white roses. Nick picked up the card that was stuck between the stems.

"My dear, allow me to express my gratitude for another day spent in such delightful company."

"I think he's exaggerating it a little bit," he stated with a scowl. "I should talk to him."

"Don't you dare," Nat objected. "A girl gets flowers rarely enough. I could as well enjoy the side effects of this arrangement."

"Are you sure?" Nick asked, concerned.

"Don't worry. I know he does that only to make me mad."

* * *

Schanke observed with concern that Nick's mood seemed to remain dark since he had seen the flowers.  
They had questioned several people at the university and his partner had been rather monosyllabic and let him do the main questioning. "We still have no clue how she could re-enter the theatre unseen by anyone. Everyone stated that the theatre was empty before it was locked up, which was at 12.30 am," he pointed out in an effort to rouse Nick from his gloomy thoughts.

After returning to the precinct, Nick's eyes lit up as he uncovered a single red rose under a pile of papers on his desk. He picked it up, inhaling the scent.

"Why is nobody sending me roses?" Schanke complained.

Nick quickly hid the rose beneath his papers when he saw Captain Cohen approach their desk. "Anything new, gentlemen?" she asked.

"We talked to some people at the university. Her roommate mentioned that she had gone into a depression lately because of a relationship that had obviously ended. She never mentioned with whom she was involved but the roommate suspected that it was one of the professors," Schanke summarized.

"So, watching the opera deepened her depression and she committed suicide?" Cohen concluded.

"No, I don't think it was suicide," Nick stated. "Maybe someone wanted it to look like that. But the time frame doesn't work. I mean, if she wanted to kill herself, why wait until the theatre was empty?"

"That's a good point, Knight. Dig deeper and find out with whom she was involved."

* * *

The tingling sensation at her wrist alerted Natalie to Lacroix's presence inside the building. She prepared herself for a sudden appearance act and was surprised when he knocked politely at her office door.

"Look whom I found lurking in the hallway," Grace beamed at her, shoving Lacroix into her office.

Lacroix smiled at her benevolently and went to pick up her hand. "Good evening, my dear. I trust you had a pleasant time at work?"

Nat returned a forced smile. "I'm afraid, I'm not finished yet. I might still be busy after sunrise."

"Nonsense, Natalie," Grace chimed in. "Your reports can wait until tomorrow. And I can fax the tox report over to the precinct. You go and make yourself a nice morning with Mr. Lacroix." Having fulfilled her mission, she left the two alone.

Natalie turned crimson at the suggestion. "Very well, let's go and get this over with," she said in defeat and grabbed her purse and coat.

"Allow me," Lacroix said and helped her into her coat, which brought him to stand close behind her. "You look delicious tonight," he breathed onto her neck.

Nat stepped deliberately away from him. "Would you stop regarding me as food," she pleaded.

"I wasn't," he corrected sincerely. "I was merely paying a compliment."

"Oh," she said, clearly embarrassed. "Well, there's no need for that either as there's nobody around to hear it."

Lacroix sighed and followed her to the parking lot.

* * *

"Aren't you going to leave?" Natalie asked when they had entered her apartment.

"I'm afraid, I cannot. The sun has just risen," Lacroix replied undisturbed.

"But you can't stay here!" Nat said determinedly.

"And why not? I didn't hesitate to offer you shelter in my home."

"That was different. You had enough rooms to accommodate several guests. This apartment is much smaller. There isn't any privacy."

"And who needs privacy?"

"I do."

"But my dear, you forget that I already know every detail about you since I've tasted your blood. So, I don't see any sense in privacy."

Natalie blushed at the reminder. "But don't expect me to entertain you," she said.

"Oh, don't worry about that. It will be my pleasure to just watch you bustling around. I've always been curious how mortals pass their days."

Natalie stood a little indecisively in her kitchen. Actually she had planned on doing her laundry. But that was out of the question now. No way was she going to do that with him examining every piece of clothing.

"Am I interrupting your morning routine?" Lacroix inquired amused.

"Listen, I had a long day at work. I'm tired."

"Why don't you sit down and relax?" Lacroix asked.

Nat stared at him. Relax? In his company? Impossible. "I don't think this is going to work," she stated.

"What are you usually doing after you come home from work?" he inquired curiously.

"I usually watch a movie before going to bed."

"Ah, interesting," Lacroix remarked and moved to her board with video tapes. "Let's see. Which one shall it be? Certainly no silly vampire movie. Why refer to a movie when you have reality only one step away?"

That was enough, Natalie fumed. She reached past him and picked out a tape randomly. She popped it into the recorder and sat down on the couch.

"How cute," Lacroix remarked as the credits of Disney's animated version of "Bambi" appeared on the screen.

Natalie tried to ignore him as he took a seat in the armchair and concentrated on the movie.

Lacroix found it more entertaining to watch her reaction than the movie itself. "Isn't it interesting how a children's movie stirs the same emotions as something grand like the opera?" Lacroix remarked dryly and offered Nat his handkerchief.

Damn, Nat cursed herself. Why did she always have to be crying during movies, and in front of him? She took the handkerchief and blew her nose defiantly. Then she rose and headed towards her bedroom.

"Natalie," Lacroix called. "I'd appreciate it if my handkerchief does not turn up in the hands of a corpse again."

Nat turned and threw the tissue back at him. Then she retreated into her bedroom and locked the door, ignoring his snickering laugh.

* * *

Nick stared at the clock on the mantlepiece. He knew it would be futile to wait any longer since his master had not returned before sunrise. He certainly wouldn't appear now, three hours later. Scowling, Nick padded upstairs and entered Lacroix's bedroom. He lay down on the large empty bed and hugged a pillow, inhaling his master's scent that lingered on it.

* * *

After taking a shower and finishing dressing, Nat carefully ventured out of her bedroom. The sun hadn't yet set. She discovered him lying on her couch, obviously still asleep. Hesitantly she stepped closer to get a better look at him. His features were relaxed and bereft of all the arrogance that often annoyed her so.

"Do I pass the inspection?" he spoke suddenly, causing her to jump.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked, watching as he sat up in a smooth movement.

"Since your heartbeat quickened by whatever thoughts you were entertaining while running the shower." He caught her hand before it collided with his cheek. "Now is that any way to treat your guest?" he asked.

"You're not my guest, you're an intruder," she stated.

"Really? Well, in that case I might as well take my breakfast right here." He brought her wrist to his mouth.

With a yelp Natalie pulled her hand away, causing him to chuckle. "Tell me one reason why I shouldn't open the blinds," she said furiously.

"I could tell you plenty, but we do not want to start the evening exchanging unpleasantries, do we?" he asked with a charismatic smile.

Natalie swallowed. Then she turned on her heels and went into her kitchen, aware that he was following her. She started her coffee maker and put a slice of bread into the toaster. From the corner of her eye she watched him pulling a bottle out of her fridge and wondered when he had stored it there. She reached into her cupboard and pulled out a mug for him.

"Thank you," he said and retreated into the living-room.

Nat let out a breath, then continued to prepare her breakfast.

When she had finished eating, she started to do the dishes, wondering if it may occur to him to help. Of course it did not. When she returned into the living-room, she found him reading her newspaper, while Sydney lay curled up beside him. "I'm heading into work now," she announced. "Do you want to stay here the entire night?"

"Of course not," he replied and followed her downstairs to the parking lot.

"No, I'm going to drive," Nat said determinedly as he held out his hand for the keys.

"If you insist. You can drop me off at Yonge Street."

When Nat pulled up to the curb in front of Eaton Centre she noticed that the surveillance car also waited in the distance.

"Don't I get a goodbye kiss?" Lacroix asked.

"Get out!" Nat fumed.

Lacroix chuckled and opened the door. "Until morning," he said. Then he was gone.

Natalie pulled back into traffic, noting that the surveillance car remained at the curb.

* * *

Lacroix entered Eaton Centre, aware of the two plain clothes detectives who were following him. He strode towards a crowded area, made a few turns and exited through another door. When he was sure that no one was near, he took to the air.

* * *

When Nat entered the morgue, Grace looked at her expectantly. "And? How was breakfast?" she asked with a knowing grin.

Natalie turned crimson at the suggestion implied by Grace's question. "Grace, please. I'm not ready to talk about it," she stated. "Has the lab report come in?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Here it is," Grace replied, reaching for a paper. "Results revealed an increased level of carbon monoxide and a low pH-value in her blood. It seems that she was suffocated before her neck was broken."

"Then we can definitely rule out suicide," Nat concluded. "Have you informed the precinct?"

"Everything's sent out," Grace assured her.

* * *

Nick had to smile despite his dark mood as he overheard the conversation Cohen was having on the phone.

"We lost him in the crowd."

"Then set up surveillance teams at the club, the morgue and Dr. Lambert's apartment. He must appear at one of these places sooner or later."

"Nick?" Schanke broke into his concentration.

"What?" he asked as Schanke showed him a sheet of paper where a name had been circled.

"A Professor Atkins from the U of T and his wife attended the performance. Might be worth to pay them a visit next."

* * *

The address led them to an upper class townhouse. The door was opened by an elegant woman.

"Mrs. Atkins?" Nick asked.

The woman nodded.

"Metro Homicide. I'm Detective Knight, this is Detective Schanke. May we talk to your husband?"

"Is this about the girl that was found dead in the theatre?" Mrs. Atkins inquired in a cold voice. "We read about it in the paper. Please, take a seat in the parlour. I'll call my husband. But I'm afraid, he's not feeling so well tonight. You know, she was one of his students."

Schanke cast a significant glance at Nick. "Bingo."

A moment later a man entered the parlour. Nick detected a slight scent of alcohol on him as well as a very elated heartbeat.

"Is this about Roberta?" Mr. Atkins asked, nervously drawing his hand through his hair.

"Yes. You knew her?" Nick asked.

"She, she was in my literature class."

"How well did you know her?" Schanke prodded.

"What are you implying?" Atkins asked in return.

"We have reason to believe that you knew her intimately."

Atkins looked more distressed by the minute. He rose and closed the door to the parlour. "Listen, I'll tell this only once and I don't want it to become public. Yes, I had an affair with Roberta. But it was over. I told her that I couldn't see her anymore, that I would stay with my wife. Then she saw us at the opera. But I'd never think she would take her life." He hid his face in his hands.

"Well, she didn't," Nick informed him. "We have cause to believe that she was murdered."

"What?" he asked, clearly shocked.

"Mr. Atkins, where did you go after the performance?" Schanke asked.

"Into the bar next door. I don't remember how long we stayed there. I guess I got pretty drunk."

"Thank you, Mr. Atkins. We have to ask you to stay in town for further questioning."

* * *

"Poor guy. One cannot blame him for his indiscretions with a wife like that. Cold as stone," Schanke said after they had left the house of Professor Atkins. When he got no response from his partner, he turned to find him staring into space. "Nick?" he asked, trying to get his attention.

"Ssh," Nick hushed him and drew him onto the grounds to the side of the mansion.

Schanke realized that the wall belonged to the living-room where they had sat only minutes ago. His partner stood motionless with his eyes closed, concentrating. He found the sight slightly unnerving and put a little distance between them.

Nick tried to ignore Schanke's elated heartbeat and focused on the voices inside the house.

"Elizabeth, they said it wasn't a suicide," he heard Atkins' voice.

"So what? It's not our concern, so stop talking about it!" his wife demanded. "It's already enough that you had to tell them about your affair."

"They seemed to know that already anyway."

"Did you tell them about the child, too?"

"No."

"Good. No one needs to know. You have done enough damage to our reputation already."

"Let's go," Nick said suddenly, causing Schanke to jump.

"Would you mind telling me what you did back there?" Schanke asked when they were inside the car.

"I listened to a conversation inside the house."

"Uhu. Anything interesting?"

"The usual banter between a jealous wife and her husband. Roberta Mason seemed to be pregnant. Did Nat confirm that?"

"Not that I know," Schanke replied.

* * *

Natalie entered the bullpen and headed for Cohen's office where Nick and Schanke were giving their reports.  
"Captain? I just received the results from the lab. Roberta Mason was six weeks pregnant. According to her OB/Gyn she learned about the pregnancy two days before her death."

"Now, isn't that a motive?" Schanke asked. "She tells the professor about the child. He panics and decides to get rid of her."

"I don't think so, Schanke."

"What, Nick?"

"I don't think he killed her. I think it was his wife."

"Do you have any evidence to back this up?" Cohen asked.

"No, it's just a feeling," Nick replied absent-mindedly.

* * *

"Come on, tell me, Nick, why do you think it was the wife?" Schanke prodded when they were driving to the bar Atkins had mentioned.

"As I said, it's just a hunch," Nick replied evasively.

"Based on what?" Schanke wanted to know.

"It's what I would do," Nick mumbled to himself.

Schanke wasn't sure if he had heard correctly. "What did you say?"

"I said experience. I've seen it happen before," Nick corrected himself, aware of the doubtful glance he received from his partner.

* * *

Nick and Schanke entered the bar next door to the theatre. The barkeeper confirmed that Professor Atkins and his wife had been to his establishment after the performance.

"Did they behave odd in any way?" Nick asked.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. He got pretty drunk, while she only drank water. I suppose she had to drive."

"Ho long did they stay?"

"I guess about two hours. No wait, it must have been longer. I remember that she disappeared into the washroom for a considerable time."

"And that got your attention?" Schanke asked in disbelief.

"Only, because she made such a fuss about her ruined dress. Said there was a nail in the wall of the stall door, where she got hooked."

"How long was she in the washroom?" Nick asked.

"Almost twenty minutes. I suppose she tried to fix her dress before coming out."

"And Mr. Atkins remained at the bar the entire time?"

"Yes, he was totally oblivious to everything around him."

"Thank you, Mr. Lester," Nick said. "Do you mind if we take a look into the washroom?"

"Go ahead. Just make sure nobody's inside before you enter."

Nick went immediately to the window in the washroom and opened it. It led into a dark alley. On the opposite side he could make out a similar milky glass window. Obviously the washroom from the theatre, he guessed. It wouldn't be difficult to leave the bar through this window and enter the theatre unobserved by anybody through the opposite window if one unfastened it beforehand. On the window sill he discovered a nail sticking out of the wood, probably the cause of the ruined dress.

Satisfied with his observation he returned to Schanke who had stood guard in front of the door.

* * *

They paid another visit to the theatre where Nick took a scrutinizing survey of the washroom. He decided that the window could easily be accessed by a mortal, even in an evening dress. Behind the door he discovered a closet, where cleaning supplies were stored. There was enough space for a body to fit in.

"Have forensics check out this closet," Nick said. "I think the body was stored here before it was thrown over the railing."

"You mean she was killed here and the killer returned later to arrange it like a suicide? Geez, how cold-blooded is that?" Schanke said in disgust.

"With her husband in a drunken stupor, Mrs. Atkins could easily return through the window. Then she dragged the body to the lift, went upstairs and pushed it from the nearest box, which happened to be Lacroix's," Nick concluded.

"Makes sense," Schanke commented. "But do we have any evidence that it was her or do you have to do that hypno thing again?" he asked uncomfortably.

"She must have torn her dress on the nail in the window frame. Forensics should check out if there are any fibres left. And we should get a hold on that dress."

"Okey, dokey, partner," Schanke said, immensely relieved, before making the necessary call to forensics.

* * *

Natalie was extremely glad when her shift ended and no unwelcome visitor had come to pick her up. She drove home, contemplating which of the many things, she had postponed yesterday, to do first. After storing her groceries, the ringing of her doorbell prevented her from beginning anything else. "Who might come to visit at four in the morning?" she wondered and opened the door.

Her spirits sank as a dark clad figure appeared on her doorstep. "You could have mentioned that your shift ended earlier tonight," Lacroix scolded in a strenuous tone. "Miss Balthazar was terribly disturbed that I had missed you."

"Well, sometimes one needs time for other important things, which I have to do now," Nat replied, pointing to the balcony door. "There's the door. You can just go while it's still dark."

Lacroix raised his eyebrows at the impolite dismissal. "Why do you waste your short life with such tedious tasks?" he asked, "when there are so much more entertaining pleasures in store."

"Because those other tasks are also necessary, especially when one has only limited time," Nat returned and watched bewildered as he calmly sat down on her couch instead of taking his leave. Immediately Sydney joined him and curled up beside him. Nat shook her head. Her cat was acting way too friendly with Lacroix. "Haven't you anything else to do?" she asked.

"No," he informed her. "Nicholas is still busy playing cops and robbers, my show is finished and the club is closed for tonight. I'm perfectly at ease to provide you company through the remaining night."

"But I don't want ---" Natalie began in a tired voice when she realized that all her protestations would be fruitless if he had made up his mind to stay.

He grazed her with a victorious smile and produced a small box. "You've mentioned that you learned to play chess in your childhood. I wasn't sure if you owned a chessboard yourself, so I've taken the liberty to pick one up in a store I happened to pass tonight," Lacroix declared and opened the box to reveal a set of exquisitely carved figures.

Natalie noticed the gothic design and wondered how much he must have paid for it. "You want me to play chess with you?" she asked after she had found her voice again.

"I thought it might be a little more challenging than another of your motion pictures," Lacroix replied.

"But I told you I wasn't very good at it and I haven't played in years. I'm not sure if I still know how to," Nat protested.

"We will see," Lacroix said and began to set up the board.

* * *

"And how does your current investigation proceed?" Lacroix asked conversationally while Natatlie prepared some tea for herself.

She told him what Nick and Schanke had discovered so far.

"I'd say it was the wife," Lacroix stated with conviction.

"How do you come to that conclusion?" Nat asked surprised. "Nick said the same, but nobody believes him."

Lacroix smiled inwardly. "Of course he would say so. It's the only logical solution. She doesn't want her marriage destroyed. So she gets rid of the intruder. A simple tale of jealousy."

 

* * *

This time Mr. Atkins opened the door after Schanke had rung the bell. "Oh, you again," he said. "Any news on Roberta's death?"

"You didn't tell us about the pregnancy," Nick remarked, stepping into the parlour. "You did know about it, didn't you?"

Mr. Atkins looked uncomfortably to the ground. "Yes, I knew," he confessed in a quiet voice. "She told me about it during the intermission. I think she thought I would change my mind and stay with her when she told me about the baby. However, before I could say anything, my wife joined us and told her to pay close attention to the second half of the performance if she needed advice. I wanted to talk to her the next day, but by then her death was already in the papers."

"We need to talk to your wife, Mr. Atkins," Nick said.

"She should be upstairs. I'll call her," he said and went to fetch her.

"You fool, there was no need to tell them about the conversation in the theatre," Nick heard Mrs. Atkins hiss at her husband before she entered the parlour.

"Good evening, Mrs. Atkins," he said. "We need to take a look at the dress that you wore that night at the theatre."

"I'm afraid, I don't have it anymore. You know it was ruined when I tore it by accident," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Yes, we already know that it happened when you climbed through the window," Nick stated.

"What?" she exclaimed, for the first time showing cracks in her stoical façade.

"We don't need the dress. Your fingerprints on the window frames in the theatre and the bar will suffice to prove your way of entry," Nick informed her.

"What is he talking about, Elizabeth?" her husband asked, alarmed.

"Mrs. Atkins, you're under arrest for the murder of Roberta Mason," Nick said.

"This is all your fault," she hollered at her husband. "I told you I wouldn't allow anything to taint your reputation."

Schanke watched in alarm as she pulled a gun from her pocket and aimed it at her husband. Pulling out his own gun, Schanke knocked her down, but not before she had managed to fire a shot. He looked around and saw that Nick was covering Atkins' body with his own.

"She missed him," Nick told him in a hoarse voice.

Relieved, Schanke pulled out his cuffs and fastened Mrs. Atkins' hands behind her back.

* * *

Natalie gasped as Lacroix suddenly jumped from his seat. She found him in front of the window, staring out into the night. "What is it?" she asked, alarmed.

"Nothing, just a minor inconvenience," he stated, rubbing his shoulder absently. Then he resumed his seat, studying the board in front of him.

They had been playing for nearly an hour. Natalie found it a little frustrating that he made his moves almost immediately while she needed several minutes to contemplate on her next move. But at least she had managed to keep her king out of danger so far and even managed to win two of his pawns.

Still, the concentration was getting to her and she felt the beginnings of a headache.

* * *

While they waited for backup, Nick remained uncharacteristically silent. "I need to make a quick stop at the loft," he announced when they were on their way back to the precinct.

"Anything to postpone the paperwork on that case," Schanke agreed. "We can't close it up anyway until ballistics have found the bullet."

"They won't find it," Nick said.

"Why?" Schanke asked, turning his attention on his partner.

"It's stuck in my shoulder."

"You got shot? Geez, Nick, why didn't you say something?"

"Too many people around," Nick replied. He parked the Caddy outside the loft and proceeded towards the entrance, followed by Schanke.

"Is there anything I can do?" Schanke offered, not sure if he really wanted to.

Nick considered him a moment. Schanke's nervousness told him that his partner was clearly uncomfortable with the situation. But he had accompanied him upstairs. Perhaps it was best to let him deal with it. "I might need your help with this one, Schanke," he said. "I can't reach it myself. Do you think you can dig it out?"

Schanke blanched at the prospect. "I don't know. Perhaps you better call Nat or ---"

"No," Nick interrupted him. He didn't want to be accused of getting shot deliberately only to have his master attending to his wounds. He pulled a bottle from the fridge and took a long swallow. Then he handed Schanke a knife and tweezers before shedding his shirt.

Schanke stared a moment at his partner's pale chest before his attention was drawn to the marred flesh at his shoulder. The skin had already begun to renew itself but the entry wound was still clearly visible.

"Just make a cut and dig it out," Nick instructed while sitting down on a kitchen chair.

"No disinfectant?" Schanke asked.

"No, I don't need that."

"But, what if it hurts?"

"Schanke," Nick said, slowly losing his patience. "It hurts like hell as long as it remains inside. So, please?"

"Sorry, Nick," Schanke apologized. "Ready?"

Nick nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. He drew in a sharp breath as Schanke made a cut on his shoulder. His fists clenched while Schanke probed with the tweezers into the wound. He became acutely aware of Schanke's rapid heartbeat and realized that his fangs had dropped. Finally he heard metal connect with metal and released the breath he had held as Schanke withdrew the instrument with the bullet. Instantly he grabbed the bottle and emptied it hastily. Only when the red haze had left his eyes did he become aware that Schanke stood frozen in front of him. "Thank you, Schanke. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have bothered you with this."

"You could have given me a warning," Schanke replied, trying not to sound too shaken by the sudden change he had just witnessed in his partner. Then his gaze fell back to the wound that was healing while he watched. "There won't be any scar?" he asked.

"No, in an hour it will look as good as new," Nick replied, glad that Schanke had regained his composure.

"Then how did that happen?" Schanke asked curiously, pointing to a long scar at his side.

"That's from before," Nick explained. "Sword fight during the Crusades."

"Weird," Schanke murmured.

Nick stood and picked up his shirt. "I need to sleep," he announced. "You're welcome to stay the day." Without waiting for a reply, he ascended the stairs and vanished into his bedroom.

Schanke stood indecisively in the kitchen. Would Nick be disappointed if he left? His own car was still at the precinct. He would have to take the Caddy and he didn't want to deal with Nick's ire should he cause a scratch. It had frightened him to hell a few years ago and at that time he hadn't even known what he knew now. Was it safe to stay? He had done it several times before and never felt threatened by Nick, except that he had seemed extremely annoyed at the prospect of having him stay here. Perhaps it was time to rebuild some trust, he thought and plopped down on the couch.

* * *

"Checkmate," Lacroix announced.

Natalie released an audible breath in defeat.

"Sometimes it's the apparently insignificant moves that shouldn't be underestimated. Their sense often remains undiscovered until the prize at the end reveals that every single move has had its purpose in achieving it," he lectured.

"Listen," Natalie announced, suppressing a yawn. "I really need to sleep now."

"As you wish," Lacroix said graciously.

Too absorbed in their game, Natalie hadn't noticed that the sun had risen. Belatedly she realized that Lacroix was stuck in her apartment for another day.

* * *

Once alone in her room her former annoyance at the entire situation returned and kept her awake. She decided not to let her daily schedule be ruled by a vampire. At four in the afternoon she donned her robe and pulled the vacuum cleaner out of the closet.

* * *

Lacroix was startled awake by a horrendous noise. Immediately alert, he flung himself on the mortal that was responsible for it. Grabbing her with one arm he used his other to pull the plug out of the socket. The apartment fell silent again except for the rapid beating of Natalie's heart. "That, my dear Natalie, was a mistake," Lacroix hissed and dragged her towards the light switch. After he had turned off the light, the apartment was cast in total darkness.

Natalie realized that this might not have been one of her brightest ideas. She struggled in vain to free herself from his embrace which felt much more intense in the dark. She became aware that she was only wearing a thin nightgown under her robe which caused her to feel terribly exposed to his touch. "Let me go!" she hollered.

"Ssh," he hushed her.

The feeling of his breath on her neck caused her to shiver uncontrollably. To her horror she felt her body responding to the ministrations he applied on her neck.

He let her know that he noticed by inhaling deeply. "Tell me, Natalie," he whispered right into her ear. "Is this what you imagined under the shower yesterday?"

She felt her skin blush and hoped he wouldn't notice in the dark.

"Is it?" he repeated his question and pressed her tighter against him.

"Yes," she whispered and gasped as she felt his lips on her neck.

He grazed her taut skin with his fangs, sucking alternately at the vein without breaking the skin. Natalie was breathing heavily and realized that she yearned for his inevitable bite. Instead he pulled her arm towards his mouth and sensuously licked his tongue across the scar. The tingling sensation that usually alerted her to his presence intensified all of a sudden, eliciting a moan from her.

When his mouth returned to her neck, she couldn't hold back any longer and groaned in pleasure as her body erupted in a shuddering release. After she had regained her senses, she noticed that the hold on her body had lessened. Summoning all of her remaining strength, she bolted from him into her bedroom and locked the door.

When Natalie ventured out of her room after dark, he was gone.

* * *

As Nick came downstairs he couldn't help but smile at the all too familiar scene at his kitchen table. Schanke sat in front of a plate that was covered with eggs and toast.

"I did some shopping. I hope you don't mind that I used your kitchen," he explained.

"Not at all. I don't have much use for it myself," Nick said and joined him at the table, where he found a mug and a bottle waiting for him. Giving Schanke a surprised look, he filled the mug and took a deliberate swallow. "Thank you, Schanke," he said, moved by the gesture.

* * *

Natalie drove to the precinct where she spotted Nick and dragged him into a conference room.

"Nat, is everything all right?" Nick asked concerned as he noticed her fatigue.

"No, nothing is alright, Nick!" she replied. "He's driving me nuts, he's keeping me from house work, I can't do anything without him sticking his nose in. If he camps out one more day on my couch, I'm going to open the blinds."

Nick looked at her, appalled. He had never seen her so upset. "But Nat ---"

"No buts, Nick. You either go tell Cohen that this was all a misunderstanding or you can scrape his ashes off my couch."

Nick swallowed. "I'll talk to him." Then he opted for a tactical retreat. Once in his car, he opened his cell phone. "We need to talk," he announced after the connection was made.

"You know where to find me, Nicholas," came the reply.

"Can't we just meet on a roof?"

"Nicholas, I'm in the middle of my show. How do you think it would look to your colleagues if I simply left?"

Nick sighed. "Okay, I'll be by before sunrise."

* * *

Natalie drove home, observing the pre-dawn sky with satisfaction. However, her hopes of an undisturbed morning were shattered when a familiar voice addressed her in the hallway. "You're late. I thought we could continue our game from yesterday," Lacroix said casually.

"Don't even think about it," Nat objected and opened the door to her apartment.

"Why so upset?" Lacroix replied amusedly. "Actually, I was referring to our game of chess."

In an attempt to hide her blush, Natalie went straight into her bedroom, locking the door.

Before Lacroix could make a comment he heard an urgent rap on the balcony door. He went to open it, amused to find a slightly smoking Nick standing outside. "Nicholas, how nice of you to drop by," Lacroix said, closing the blinds carefully after his son had stepped into the living-room.

"Why are you doing this?" Nick asked.

"Doing what?" Lacroix returned, raising his eyebrows.

"There's no need for you to stay here during the day. You could just leave through the balcony door."

"But I find the proceedings here so entertaining. Besides, Dr. Lambert's work detained her almost until sunrise. We were glad to make it here at all."

"But I miss you!" Nick blurted out.

"Ah, so this is what this is all about. Then you should consider explaining the situation to your Captain."

Nick let his shoulders slump.

Lacroix reached out and pulled up his chin. "Why is it so hard, Nicholas? Your partner already knows and he seems to have no problem with that part."

"But he knows the entire truth. My colleagues already gave me funny looks when you picked me up from prison. I draw enough attention by never participating in any common events or joining them in the lunch room. I don't need another thing to set me apart."

"But this peculiarity would explain a few other things that do not match up with the image of the ordinary mortal cop you profess to be."

"What other things?" Nick asked.

"For example, why you appeared to be immune to the charms of your female co-workers. They certainly must have noticed your reluctance."

"But I wasn't immune," Nick protested. "I just didn't want to harm them."

"I know that, but they do not. Certainly they've made up their own theories why that is so and I doubt that anyone includes your explanation."

"You mean they think I'm gay?"

"I would at least consider that possibility."

"No, someone would have mentioned something. This would have been a feast for the grapevine."

"You should give your co-workers a little more credit, Nicholas. People are more open-minded nowadays. There's no cause for aspersions if someone prefers the same gender."

"I'll think about it," Nick conceded.

"And while you do so, why don't you join me on the couch?" Lacroix said, pulling him with him. "A pity that Dr. Lambert has this large bed all to herself while we have to put up with this narrow place, isn't it?"

"I doubt she'd be delighted if we used her bed," Nick whispered. "And I don't mind narrow," he added, snuggling close to his master.

"She won't be delighted to find blood spots on her couch either," Lacroix remarked.

"We'll have to be careful then," Nick replied and bent down to caress his master's neck.

* * *

When Natalie appeared from her room in the evening she stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed two visitors on her couch. They lay in a tight embrace, Nick half on top of Lacroix. The elder had his arms around his son, holding him possessively in place.

"I should take a photo and pin it on the bulletin board. And all my problems would be solved," Nat thought.  
She didn't dare to approach any further as she was not sure how Nick would react when he woke up. She had learned by now that his stomach usually woke a couple of minutes earlier than his common sense. And she certainly wanted to spare herself the consequences of accidentally waking Lacroix. So she silently made her way into the kitchen and prepared her breakfast.

* * *

A hiss from Sydney caused her to turn around. Startled, she found Nick staring at her with an expression on his face that could be described as hostile. "Nick?" she asked, relieved to see his features soften. "When did you come in?"

"He came blown in with the morning sun, so to speak," Lacroix said and joined Natalie in the kitchen, where he pulled a bottle from the fridge. She handed him two mugs which he filled before returning into the living-room.

Nick watched the interaction with a frown on his face. Silently he accepted the mug from Lacroix.

"I hear your case is closed, Nicholas?" Lacroix asked.

"Yes, the Professor's wife has confessed that she killed the girl in an attempt to save her marriage."

"And have you come to a conclusion how you will solve our current dilemma?"

"Perhaps," Nick replied cryptically. After a pause he added, "I'll talk to the Captain."

Lacroix curved his lips in approval. "In that case I will be expecting you at my mansion by morning."

* * *

Nick hesitantly entered Cohen's office. "Captain, I need to talk to you about something," he began.

"Yes?" Captain Cohen asked.

"It's about Lacroix. He ---" Nick broke off and concentrated on Cohen's heartbeat instead. "You will call the surveillance team on Natalie and Lacroix back. There's no need to follow them any longer."

Cohen stared at him, bewildered. "I don't understand, Nick. There is no surveillance team on him or Dr. Lambert."

"What?" Nick exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, but I've no idea what you're talking about. Why should I order a surveillance team on them?" Cohen said with a blank expression on her face that rose a suspicion in Nick.

* * *

When Nat entered her apartment in the morning, she let out a shriek as she was suddenly grabbed from behind before she could turn on the light. Her cat let out an angry hiss at the commotion. A hand clamped onto her mouth, preventing her from uttering any further sounds. Still she moaned against the hand as she felt a tongue on her throat. The hand left her mouth to pick up her arm where she felt smooth lips caressing her scar. "Lacroix, not again," she pleaded and cried out in pain as she felt a bite into her wrist that was anything but gentle.

As soon as it had begun, the sucking stopped and she found herself on the floor while a cold breeze from the open window informed her that he was gone. Nat scrambled to the light switch and regarded the damage. Her wrist was bleeding freely and she quickly retrieved her medical bag to place disinfectant and a bandage onto the wound.

Had he not said this would be pleasurable, Nat wondered angrily. Instead she had felt nothing but pain and fear.

* * *

"What have you done with the Captain?" Nick demanded to know as he faced Lacroix in his parlour.

"Excuse me?" Lacroix asked, rising from his seat.

"What happened to the surveillance team?"

"Oh, I dismissed them on the third night. I found their presence rather limiting. Then I convinced your Captain to forget about the entire affair," Lacroix explained undisturbed.

"On the third night?" Nick asked exasperated. "Why did you continue your charade with Nat then?"

Lacroix smiled at his agitated child and brushed his hand along his cheek. "Because it triggered something in you that I find irresistible," Lacroix stated.

"I'm not sure if I like that," Nick replied, but he leaned into the touch, savouring the closeness he had missed during the previous days.

Lacroix led Nick up the stairs and paused in front of the bedroom door. "Are you in the mood for a special treatment?" he inquired casually.

Nick looked up at his master, a shiver of anticipation running through him. "Yes, what did you have in mind?"

"Ah, it would spoil the experience if I told you aforehand," Lacroix replied cryptically. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a blindfold. "The essential point is that you do not know what awaits you behind that door," he continued while he covered Nick's eyes with the silken cloth.

Nick swallowed. His growing excitement manifested itself in the tightening of his groin.

Lacroix took him by the hand and led him into the room. After closing the door with a sharp report he turned back to his son. Nicholas stood proud in the middle of the room, eagerly waiting for his master's next move.  
Lacroix leaned close and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. Then he turned his attention to his shirt and undid the buttons in a few quick motions.

Nicholas stood still as the shirt slipped from his shoulders, exposing him to the gaze of his master. Lacroix wasted no time to expose more of his son as he reached for the belt. Soon he had relieved him from his remaining clothing. "Hmm, you look delectable, mon fils," Lacroix whispered in approval.

"Aren't you going to touch me?" Nick inquired when nothing else had happened so far.

"Do you wish to be touched?" Lacroix asked in a seductive whisper.

"Yes," Nick breathed.

"Later," Lacroix stated, causing Nick to frown. "For now you may imagine how I will touch you."

Nick drew in a sharp breath as the effect of his imaginations was clearly evident on his body. It seemed his entire front was tingling from need to be actually touched.

"You're doing very well, my son," Lacroix said approvingly. In the meantime he had shed his own clothes.  
From a drawer he retrieved two silken scarves which he wrapped around Nick's wrists. He allowed the ends to touch Nick on purpose, causing a ticklish sensation. "Let's move to a more comfortable position," Lacroix suggested and pulled him towards the bed. "On your stomach," Lacroix commanded as Nick moved to lie down on his back.

"On the front?" he asked a little disappointed as this position meant that he still wouldn't be touched where he needed it most. He complied though and gasped as his sensitive skin came in touch with the surface of the bed. Not the smooth satin sheets he was used to but a very rough towel. Suddenly his imagination went into overdrive as his mind focused on what this rough cloth might do to him should he be able to rub himself against it.

While his mind still lingered on these thoughts, he found his arms spread and tied to the headboard. Then a pillow was shoved beneath him, consisting of an equally rough surface. His pelvis was levitated causing his weight to rest on his chest. Any movement would now result in his nipples being brushed across the towel.

"I believe it won't be necessary to bind your legs," Lacroix remarked. "I'm sure you will spread them most willingly."

Nick did so eagerly, curious what might follow next.

"Are you comfortable?" Lacroix inquired almost concerned.

"Not really," Nick mumbled.

"Good. Then I will see what I can contribute to that." He was suddenly on his back, demanding entrance.

Nicholas screamed as he found himself invaded so unexpectedly. Lacroix withdrew slowly before slamming back inside, the momentum sliding Nick across the rough surface, causing a delicious friction on his front. He screamed again at the unexpected sensation.

Lacroix repeated the movement, always giving him time to perceive the sensation on his front.

"More!" Nick begged as Lacroix had waited a little too long with his next stroke.

Lacroix complied immediately, eliciting another scream of pleasure from Nicholas. It spurned Lacroix on to intensify the force of his strokes. Nicholas' screams soon became throaty groans. His entire front was burning like hell from the friction and yet he was eager for the next stroke.

Lacroix drove himself to the edge, Nicholas' groans of pleasure were music to his ears. Nick thought he would lose consciousness from the sheer bliss he received through his master's actions. When the tension in his groin had tightened into an unbearable knot, he found an arm shoved in front of him. With a throaty roar he bit into it. Lacroix pressed his wrist against Nicholas' mouth, levitating him at the same time to give himself better access to the neck. He gave one more stroke before biting into the neck.

Nick shuddered in ecstasy as his release overwhelmed him. He moaned against Lacroix's arm, his entire body shaking in bouts of pleasure. Lacroix held his child until the last trembling had ceased and he passed out.

Lacroix smiled in contentment that his little plan had worked out well. He had considered the past days as an extended phase of foreplay during which the anticipation of their next encounter had been gradually building. It had been worth the lack of contact when the inevitable reunion was so much more fulfilling.

* * *

Nat was bent over her microscope when she became aware of the tingling sensation in her arm. "Lacroix, how dare you ---" she began, turning around and stopped in midsentence as she gazed into Nick's unreadable face.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> This storyline is continued in [Final Evidence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/317723).


End file.
